Just an Average Day
by ThunderScythe
Summary: 8k Kiriban on my DA page. G1 Ratchet's average day. Oh how full of turmoil and anger it is for the humble mech. A little bit of Jazz/Annoyed Ratchet


Three cycles before the recharge cycle was due to be over, Ratchet was awoken by a loud crash in the Med Bay. Form shooting up in alarm, he quickly went to check, hoping it wasn't those fragging twins again… he had been busy doing reports and apparently time slipped away from him and he dozed off into recharge in his office again. The door swished open and in the darkness he spotted a large winged figure trying to hide itself behind a medical berth. Frowning, Ratchet flicked on the lights to reveal a startled Dinobot.

Swoop ducked down more, trying to hide himself but his wing sparked and he yelped in pain and looked sheepishly over at Ratchet. The medic sighed and leaned against the doorframe for a moment before walking over, looking over the cot at the shivering figure. Innocent blue optics peeked up at him.

"Swoop…" Ratchet sighed, rubbing his helm tiredly, "What are you doing in here at this hour?"

The Dinobot whined and hid his face with the berth like a youngling caught with his hand in the energon goodie jar. Ratchet groaned and rubbed at his optics.

"C'mon, tell me what happened." He tried to soothe. He was too old for this kind of slag.

Swoop's wing sparked again and he twitched and flinched a bit before giving in. "Him Slag and him Snarl thought Swoop's wing rust stick in recharge. Chew on it before him Grimlock rolled onto it and flattened it."

Ratchet sighed, "And why didn't you comm. me?"

Swoop fidgeted, "Me Swoop know you Ratchet busy with medical reports. Me Swoop didn't want to disturb."

The CMO shook his head, part to get his processors running to their normal efficiency and part to show his rejection of the statement. "You're not a disturbance, Swoop. It's my job to heal and repair. You come whenever you get injured instead of trying to sneak in and steal my tools."

Swoop hung his head and pressed his fingers together nervously. "…Me Swoop was going to put back when done…"

Ratchet facepalmed, "Just get on the berth, Swoop and let me take a look." Swoop hesitated before standing to his full height, towering over the mech before sitting himself on the medical berth, placing his wing in easy access for Ratchet. Sighing, Ratchet dragged some tools over and began to work.

By the time he was finished with Swoop and his infernal wing, with those hellish wiring setups that Wheeljack put in, it was already well into his shift so he sat himself on a stool and waited for anyone to come. He wasn't disappointed when soon enough Ironhide came through the doors, rubbing his shoulder. Ratchet frowned at the red mech.

"Hey Ratch, can ya check my shoulder strut before I go on patrol? It's acting up again."

"Didn't I just check it over last megacycle?"

Ironhide took the liberty to look sheepish, "Yeah, but I did something this morning and-"

Ratchet put up a hand to stop him, "The berth. Get on the berth."

The red mech pouted before planting himself on the medical berth, looking around before yelping when Ratchet roughly grabbed his shoulder and yanked it over for his inspection.

"Careful Ratchet! It's-"

"Sensitive, yeah, yeah." He muttered, poking a few wires experimentally before indeed finding a wire broken and loose. "Didn't I tell you last megacycle to wait a full decacycle before doing any _strenuous_ activities?"

"Yeah but…"

Ratchet yanked out the wire, causing the mech to howl. "No one ever listens to me…"

Ironhide left the medbay, sniffling and rubbing his abused shoulder, Trailbreaker, his patrol partner, looking startled to see his expression. Ratchet locked optics with the black mech and he glared, the strategist hightailing it.

Ratchet busied himself with cleaning the berths and tools when his optics started to lower, too focused however, he didn't notice the bay's doors slide open and someone enter until hands slide down his hips, causing him to jerk and stiffen, fist clenching hard around his trusty wrench. A body pressed against his back and helm vents purred happily against his cheek guard, hands petting and stroking his hips and thighs.

"Doc, I seem to have a bad case of _Love Fever_." Jazz's smooth voice decided to entice his audios. "The only antidote is having our bodies pressed passionately together, connected…" A hand dared to sneak down and press curious fingers against his codpiece, lips nipping at his chevron.

Ratchet didn't even look as his hand went back over his shoulder and his wrench made contact with the Ops mech's helm. Jazz yelped and staggered back just in time for a nice bright flash to blind them.

"Frag this lag!" Sideswipe's voice came from somewhere towards the bay's doors.

"I told you the Kodak was a bad choice." Sunstreaker's voice chided. The two looked at the photo they took and were highly disappointed when it was a photo of Jazz's face full of wrench. Jazz took his leave with a satisfying laugh and the twins didn't seem to notice the shadow looming over them until it was too late.

"Seems kinda warm all of a sudden…" Sideswipe blinked before looking up into the fiery optics of the medic. "Aw, frag…" They tried to run but Ratchet grabbed them both by their scruffs and dragged them into the bay.

"Time for an exhaust flush, younglings." Ratchet purred with a glint in his optics.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's cries of terror were cut off when the doors hissed innocently shut.

First Aid walked through the halls toward the medbay for his routine tutoring sessions, humming contently. His day had gone by pleasant enough- a wonderful morning with his brothers before doing some training and a quick shift. He had his mentoring sessions with Ratchet then he was off for a longer shift but that was alright. He would study with Swoop later after the Dinobot had his own session the next megacycle.

Approaching the door, he was about to get within the vicinity of it opening for him when it opened and the twins stampeded out, running down the hall for their very sparks. They managed to strafe First Aid unintentionally in their haste to get away and knocked him square on his aft, the datapads he was holding scattering. His surprise went to disappointment and he sighed before starting to gather his belongings.

Footsteps coming from within the bay made him look up and Ratchet was shaking his head, whether at him or the twins he didn't know, the medic's arms folded across his chest. He focused on First Aid and his curiosity etched itself lightly across his face.

"What are you doing down there? Get up, youngling."

He raised a hand to explain himself but he just sighed and quickly picked up his datapads and hurried inside, not noticing Ratchet smiling at him.

"You know we have those already in here." The CMO reminded, putting away a rather dark looking hose back into storage as First Aid prepped himself at a berth made temporary desk.

The younger mech nodded, "Yes I know but I can't write in those. I write down reminders in these copies so I don't forget."

Ratchet came over, wiping his hands clean, looking over the mech's shoulder at the scribbles on the sidebars. "Whatever helps you, I guess." He shook his head in good nature as First Aid looked embarrassed. He patted the mech's helm. "I'm messing with you, Aid, it's perfectly fine. In fact, its better that you do that."

His little pupil beamed at the praise, Ratchet not knowing how such expression could be expressed through a visor and facemask. Dragging over a stool, he sat himself on the other side of the berth and folded his arms on its top. "Where'd we leave off at, First Aid?"

Sometime near the end of their session, the alarm for a Decepticon attack blared, Teletraan's voice signaling over the intercom where it was located at. The two mechs exchanged glances, First Aid sighing and looking down, Ratchet patting the mech's shoulder.

Ratchet was the field medic, as usual, ducking and diving behind anything that would withstand the brute of the Decepticon's forces. An explosion rocked the large truck he took shelter behind, blowing dirt and dust onto his frame. Bluestreak's pained face looked up at him from the ground, doorwing missing and stub bleeding badly. His optics were full of terror and shame and Ratchet could only pet his helm briefly before rolling him over to quickly patch up the stub, the mech crying in pain the entire time.

Skywarp was claiming victory over the doorwing, raising it above his head like it was his newest trophy. Starscream flew over, avoiding potshots from the twins, long enough to smack the purple seeker upside the helm and yell at him to 'get the fragging slag back to work!' causing him to drop the door and transform, warping off with a pout.

Bluestreak clung to him desperately, vents heaving in shock, optics wide and brimming with optical fluid to keep the dust off his optics. Ratchet sighed and held him in a tight embrace, petting in between the stub and left over wing to soothe the Datsun down. Eventually, when the explosions quieted and the seekers were chased off with the few cubes of energon they could scavenge, he led the mech over to Wheeljack and a huffy Mirage, the two covered in soot and missing a limb each. Wheeljack took the liberty to look sheepish. Mirage looked irritated and glowered at the white and green inventor.

Soon, the others other's gathered around, congratulating each other on a job well done at stopping the 'cons and Prime transformed to allow the wounded to load up in his trailer, Ratchet busy with cleaning out Mirage's wiring so he could effectively connect the limb when they got back to base. The blue and white mech huffed and puffed and pouted the whole way back. Bluestreak was cuddled up close to Wheeljack, the two distracting each other from their own injuries with idle chat. Sunstreaker had managed to pick up Blue's door and had given it to the mech, the young gunner just stared at it with quivering lips and Ratchet snatched it out of his hands and smacked Sunstreaker upside the back of his head with it before shoving it in Wheeljack's hand.

Back at the Ark, the medbay was noisy… Ratchet hated noisy. The mechs who were only cosmetically injured were yelled at to come back later, Sunstreaker the only one stupid enough to whine about it and got a rather large dent in his head for it. The yellow mech muttered something under his breath and left, casting a glare at Mirage, who smirked back at him in triumph. Ratchet didn't miss the exchange and left a hefty dent on Mirage's helm as well, the mech looking absolutely appalled that he was hit and it was Ratchet's turn to look smug, going back to cleaning out the mech's wiring and connecting the spy's arm back on successfully. He told him to beat it and Mirage pointed to his helm expectantly, leading Ratchet to point at his bay doors expectantly. Mirage muttered something about the Towers and left, rubbing his aching cranium.

Ratchet dragged over Wheeljack, cleaning out his wires and attaching his arm as well, the inventor chattering about why his invention probably failed the whole time. Perceptor came in sometime after Wheeljack was fixed and he took the lighter casualties as Ratchet went to work on poor little Blue, easing the mech down onto his front and giving him a heavy sedative to relax him more before taking him offline to reattach his doorwing.

Perceptor and Wheeljack finished the others off a bit too fast for Ratchet's pleasure and they bid him a goodnight as he was left with a slumbering Bluestreak. It took him a bit longer than he wanted to admit to finish the repair and he sighed heavily as he sat back, wincing when his back protested.

Completely exhausted and in a good need of a wash, Ratchet sat at his desk again in a hope of finishing the last of his medical reports to hand over to Prowl. Unfortunately, he wasn't even able to read through the first one when he head the doors swish open and voices coming in. He hauled himself up and into the main bay, seeing Smokescreen holding Prowl, a sheepish Spike at his feet.

"I really didn't mean for Prowl to overhear, knowing he would fritz, I'm so sorry!" the little human was babbling. Ratchet pointed to a berth and Smokescreen set down the locked up tactician before heading back over.

"What was it this time?" Ratchet asked, rubbing his helm to get the growing processor ache to go away.

"Spike was telling me about children books." Smokescreen explained. "They really don't make sense at all- livestock jumping over moons and food coming to life."

"I didn't think he would take it so seriously…" Spike frowned and looked away, never able to take Ratchet's stare.

Ratchet took in a deep intake of air, dust puffing out of him when he exhaled. "That's quite alright Spike. Just try not to have it happen again." He tried to sound calm but he couldn't mask his irritation.

Mumbling another apology, Spike quickly left with the secondary tactician, the medbay quiet and alone again. Ratchet dragged over a set of tools and sat himself at Prowl's helm, mentally deciding on if he should smack the black and white now or later when he woke up to feel it. Deciding later, he popped opened the mech's helm and set to work, knowing his recharge cycle would be missed again.

He groaned in despair at the thought it was all going to reset in the morning.


End file.
